


the colour of love, blue

by kinpika



Series: merde, je t’aime tant [9]
Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Future Fic, Links in to previous fic, Peak Romance, a request from tumblr, in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 00:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: Whenever she came back into his life, it always rained.





	the colour of love, blue

Castiel doesn’t like the rain.

Maybe once upon a time he did, tucked up in his apartment with Demon as his only companion, tv soft in the background while he came up with songs. Back then, rain was something he thought of in the same vein as _quiet_ , close, home. A small comfort, sure, locked in his apartment with nothing beyond the doors. I’m not alone, he would say into the night. 

But years don’t always appreciate being stagnant. Rain became associated with getting lost in a forest, his only companion the new girl who arrived one day, out of the blue. It moved, to being caught at the bus stop on the way home from school, watching the same girl wring her hair out (her name was Mercedes, but she stopped him. “It’s _just_ Gigi.”). Snowballed into sitting in the library of all places, hitting the window as she buried her nose in books, going through notes. His notes. It was going to the cafe, a party, the first sound in the morning after the first night, an accompaniment to each footstep he took as he navigated this strange, new life.

Rain was ten at night, making sure she got through the park alright, at the very least, and leaving her with his umbrella. Rain was two in the afternoon, getting caught on the way home, and jumping into puddles because she could. Rain was five in the morning, the last thing he remembers as he climbed on that bus and said goodbye.

Reminded him too closely of Gigi, of opening himself up. Of not being alone. Stepping beyond the door of his apartment, _allowing_ himself to move on. Castiel didn’t like change, not always, because it was normally turbulent and uncontrollable. Two words also associated with her, strung into song that no one really understands.

_Castiel doesn’t like the rain._

It had been years. Months. A number written on the top of books, one of which was somewhere in his guitar case, up to date. Held close to remind himself: _never again_. Castiel had played the fool, over and over. This fool let himself fall in love once again, and the only benefit it had was his songs.

Did she listen to them and know they were about her? That it was always about _her_? Castiel thinks about Gigi, but of course he does. In between meals, songs, sets. Whenever a shutter goes off, another photo taken, he can only think that it should be her taking the photo. Close by, a professional distance that disappears once they’re out of sight. A game played by two fools, that was only going to end up in flames.

But change and years. Change and years find him, wrap themselves around him, shake him. Throat catching mid song, as he sees the familiar fall of hair, those dark eyes, and that blue dress. Always a blue dress. 

Change takes him by the hand, leading him backstage to see his old classmates. Years shape her, shape him. Older, wiser. Longer hair, she laughs, just like he remembers. Maybe it’s something in the air, but he swears that her fingers twitch, that her hand raised, as if to brush his hair off his forehead. Castiel would swear he was also beyond wishful thinking, but when they part, he finally notices that it was raining.

Whenever she came back into his life, it always rained.

Neither of them know what they want. Neither of them know how to reconnect. Castiel is several figures deep in his music, already packing up and moving on for the next tour. Too much time spent waiting around, anyway. Trying to fill his days with _her,_ while he could. Managers and bandmates and common sense in his head, telling him to let go. It’s good for his image, good for the band, good for _himself_.

But Gigi _smiles_ , the one he sees behind his eyelids some nights. Eyes crinkling in the corners, a dimple only on the right side of her face. She thought her smile was ugly, and admitted it to him one night, under the covers, while the rain gently tapped the window. Castiel had kissed her until she laughed and smiled, and didn’t stop. He remembers that moment, when he arrives at the specified time, and she greets him with a smile that he covered in three different songs.

She hates him for it. For him telling her its time for him to move on. It’s for the band. Of course she should understand. _She pushed him for it in the first place_.

Castiel should know better, than to sling stuff back with bite. It rains, heavy and violent, all the way to the university campus. Seeps through his shirt, chilling his skin. Something in him keeps his feet moving, keeps him yelling. He pushes through people who had gathered to see the commotion, asking for her, following directions and curious looks.

Ignoring the knowing ones, from those he’d rather not see.

Only when the rain finally dies down to a steady stream, does he find her. A gazebo, erected for one reason or another. Glass and vines, somehow appropriate and suitably her. Gigi was settled against one of the panels, and Castiel didn’t have to be close to know that she was crying. 

_“Don’t come any closer.”_

Retracting his foot from the entrance, Castiel stands at the very edge, barely covered by the awnings. “I’m sorry,” he says, as he had said a hundred times, in a hundred different ways.

Gigi looks at him, eyes swollen, hair wet and limp. Castiel still found her beautiful, no matter what. 

“Just stop. Please.” Her words weren’t wholly directed at him, Castiel knew. It was mutual, then and now.

“ _Mercedes_ , look at me _._ ”

She flinches, not out of fear, but at her name. Quietly buried and ignored, preferring her middle name and introducing herself with that nickname at any chance she got. Building a character and a person around ‘Gigi’, whoever that girl ended up being. Castiel only knew one girl, who was always a Mercedes, never a Georgine. 

Her eyes raise as the rain begins to fall again. “It’s always been you,” he breathes, slowly, surely. A sweep of wind carrying his words. “I’ve never wanted anyone but _you_.”

“Don’t say that now.” It’s a plea, sure as anything. Hurt tramples her voice, making it tremble. 

“Listen to me—”

“—No, I can’t do this again—”

“—I _love_ you! I always have—”

“—Castiel, _please_ —”

“—And I always will!”

Fresh tears are on her cheeks, and Gigi wobbles to her feet, holding her hand up and telling him to stop. He takes a moment to realise that she was barefoot, shoes in hand. No jacket, a piece of material to pass as a top. Castiel breaks the threshold, barely three steps in when his arms go around her. Gigi doesn’t fight him. Her shoes meet the ground, she fills her fists with the front of his shirt, and she wails. Mixed words from apologies he just repeats back, to those ‘I love you’s he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard.

“You’re ridiculous,” he mumbles, not letting her go. Not this time. 

“I hate you,” Gigi cries against him, but there’s no weight behind it. “I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t pushed you…”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

Castiel hushes her, feeds his fingers through her hair, teasing out knots as he goes. It’d be several conversations worth of apologies and tears to get through, but he felt warm, despite the chill. The corners of his eyes burned, and his cheeks were flushed. A smile grew over his lips, just from how she stared at him, the smallest amount of fear in her eyes. 

“I love you,” he repeats, saying it again, to make up for how little he got to say it before.

Gigi’s eyes well once more, and she goes to throw her arms around his neck. “I love you, too. Always.”

“ _Always_.”

Castiel doesn’t mind the rain, after all, anyway.


End file.
